


After I Die

by Maymaaike



Series: Before/ After I Die [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Again no spoilers here!, M/M, Sorry it's so sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-17
Updated: 2013-09-17
Packaged: 2017-12-26 21:13:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/970363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maymaaike/pseuds/Maymaaike
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One year after it happened, how are they all coping?</p>
            </blockquote>





	After I Die

**Author's Note:**

> So this is the sequel to Before I Die, taking place one year after the passing of Louis.  
> I wrote this a while ago, so I definately don't really like it anymore (I'm one of those people who dislike their writing after a week or so :P) but it's my most popular one shot on the other site I post on, so that's why I decided to upload it on here :)
> 
> If you want to know whatLouis sickness was, see notes at the end!  
> x

There we sat, an incomplete group. A puzzle that missed a piece. A too small circle in the middle of my living room.

It’s been a year, 365 long days, without him. It’s been rough on all of us and, of course, extra hard on our curly haired friend.

The wedding was so cheery and happy, but you could see the sadness in everybody’s eyes. The words ‘Until death do us part’ have never been so heavy, you could see the both lads struggling to get the words out. It felt like a torture and I just wanted to jump up and beg them to skip that part. The younger boy couldn’t ‘kiss his groom’, instead pecked his forehead lovingly. The endless coughs echoed through the ceremony, cutting into everyone’s ears and hearts. It was hard to stay positive when there was so much that was wrong. They struggled through it, though, and that day was definitely the best in both of their lives.  
Their honeymoon was short, since nobody wanted the sick boy away from them for too long. That too had a very sad note to it, silent tears slipping from both their eyes as they cuddled together and sometimes exchanged small pecks on the body parts in reach, the images of how that night could’ve gone if nothing was wrong clear in their minds.

I found them, two months after their wedding, entangled in the bed sheets. The curly mess that had to resemble a boy was quiet, but the tears that streamed down his face spoke more than he ever could. He was cradling the peaceful face in his lap, running his fingers through the brown locks of hair. His usual tan face was paling, and that together with the fact that his chest wasn’t rising and falling were the only signs that the older boy wasn’t asleep. Their two hands were clasped together tightly, silver rings pressed together as the younger boy brought them up to his lips. The silence was suiting, nobody broke the silence that day. We didn’t need words, all we could do was stare at the still beautiful boy in the big bed and eventually watch as he got carried out of the apartment.  
Everybody stayed in their expected character; curls cried, being held tightly by his raven and blonde friends. I called everybody that needed to know, not saying anymore than just ‘it happened’. Everybody was worn out and just plain sad. We didn’t do much that day.

It only took a day or two for it to actually sink in. Only a day or two before everybody stepped out of character. Curls never stopped crying, but got angry too. It was unfair, he missed his other half, the ring wasn’t enough. He needed to be with him. Raven continued to be his rock, tugging away the knives and bottles filled with pills safely. He made sure the devastated boy ate and drank and slowly helped him get back to himself. That never surprised me, I expected that. No, they didn’t really surprise me.

I surprised myself.

I had a mental breakdown, questions about the meaning of life and death haunting me constantly. What was it really worth? Was it worth anything? I suddenly realized that I was now the eldest of the five-erm, four, and I got scared. Scared of death and scared to leave those three innocent lads alone. I was worn out, maybe even a bit broken under the intensity of the past year. Because the past year, I was everybody’s rock. I was a safe haven for the coughing lad when he had minor breakdowns, I was a shoulder for the young lover to lean on, I caught the tears that would slip the blonde’s eyes every now and then, when it all just became too much. I comforted the single mother with her four daughters, trying to ease them into the idea of the future, without their son and brother. I supported the quiet raven when he felt like he’d been too close to death by just seeing it happen and wanted to stop risking his own life. I was there to hold his fidgeting fingers and talk him through the periods of time he craved some addiction, I was there. And then, I couldn’t be there anymore, because it didn’t matter how much I cared and protected everybody. It didn’t matter, at the end of the day people died, and I couldn’t protect them from it. I’d given my utter everything the past year and he still died, I couldn’t change that. I withdrew myself, trying to mend and repair the seams that had been stretched so much the last year. I tried to make myself presentable, tried to be okay, but I didn’t succeed and I didn’t understand why. My blond companion did though. He became my rock, my shoulder to lean on, the one who would cuddle with me and soothe me softly. Because of him I survived, because of him I recovered. I became myself again, even better. I learned to let go, to let others help others and let others help me. Everybody returned to their old selves, a bit damaged but also a bit improved. We’ve definitely grown into even better friends, I’ve never had people understand me as well as these lads do and I’ve never understood anyone better than them.

After a while we were able to say his name again, to talk about him and we didn’t judge each other when we admitted to talking to him. The young and lonely lover was able to smile again, remembering the sweet things about his husband, but he swore to never love another man. He knew that he had told him to do just that, but he wasn’t able to. And it wasn’t depressing, he was okay with it. Their love had been short and intense, but enough to satisfy him for a lifetime.

We each had our own theory about why our dearest friend had to die; I personally stuck with the cheesy thought that God needed him, my raven friend said he learned every lesson there was to learn in life. The now only blue eyed boy in our group refused to believe there was a reason, he thought that the boy didn’t deserve what happened in the slightest and was still mad that he had to die. Any time we would talk about it, small dimples would poke into cheeks as he shared his thoughts.

“Louis is our angel and he earned his wings by being the perfect friend and lover.”

Smiles would play at our lips, liking the feeling of believing that.

It was weird, not hearing the boy’s laughter, or even his coughs. He’d always had a big personality and took a big place in people’s hearts, it was inevitable that he would leave a gap. It was hard when someone passed a milestone, we always took a minute to realize that our eldest friend wasn’t there to see it. It was definitely hard, but we managed because we weren’t alone. We still had each other and we were determined to make the best of the time we still had together.

So there we sat, circle wide enough for someone to join us. Not that we expected someone to, I don’t think we even did it consciously. We just adopted that as a new habit, leaving enough space for him to sit with us if he ever wanted to. Everybody was staring at the white envelope in Curl’s hands. We’d received it from the sonless mother we knew so well, and she’d said it was from him. From her son, our friend and lover. She said he told her to give it one year after he would be gone, so she did. That day was today, and she gave us the envelope with our names scribbled on it. Just those messy letters in ink had an impact on us. He wrote us, he had written those letters when he was still alive. After what felt like hours of mentally preparing ourselves for what was to come, I took the letter from the young boy’s shaking hands and opened it for him. We sat close to each other, everybody reading the letter for themselves.

 

_After I die_

_So, it’s been a year now lads. I hope you’re all doing okay. I hope you’ve been able to mend yourselves again. If not, I want you to. I want you all to focus your life again, not me. You’ve seen for yourselves how quickly everything can just stop, so I beg you, live. Do everything you want to do. Li, I’m forever grateful for the list you made me make. I’m so glad we did those things, all of us. I want you all to make a list as well, and I want you all to complete it. You get that? I don’t know where I’ll be when you read this, but I sure as hell will check up on you guys and you better have the freaking list. I can haunt you, just saying…_

Teary chuckles erupted in the room. Typical, so typical. We glanced at each other, not ashamed by the tears. We squeezed a little closer together, hands held tightly.

_I hope nothing changed between you guys. Our friendship is so precious, you lot can never let go of that, understand?_  
 _Oh, and, don’t be scared. There’s no room for fear in life, it’s only holding you back. Keep faith, I’ll make sure you’ll grow old, but you have to do it the right way: together._

I glanced up at the ceiling, somehow expecting him to be seen there. He’ll watch over us. A content smile filled our faces, hushed whispers and heartfelt words shared.

_Harry, Haz, I hope you’re doing good. Please, stop crying. I’m still there for you and you know it. Remember our late night talks and please stick to your promises and I’ll stick to mine. I’ll keep you safe, Harry. But you have to learn how to push me to the back of your mind, maybe forget me in times where it’s needed. I’m not asking you to forget about me, you have your ring to remind you of me. Do you still wear it? I hope you do._  
 _I hope you haven’t stopped smiling, because your smile is so beautiful. Lads, make sure my Haz smiles, okay? I’m sure it only rains in London when he doesn’t. Have you listened to me, love? Have you been looking for new love? It doesn’t matter, all I want is for you to stop dwelling. To breathe, and keep putting your foot in front of the other, keep moving._

Curls tickling my neck as he buries his head there. Everybody tightens their arms around him as he releases shaky breaths. Lost whimpers drift off in the air and get soaked up by the letter.

_So, I guess this is about it. You can read this whenever you miss me, or when you feel poorly. I truly hope you listen to what I asked you here, but I’m sure you will. I just want to thank you for the roles you played in my life. You’re all very important to me, and I’m glad I could spend so much time with you._  
 _Now, take a view deep breaths, wipe away those stupid tears and make yourselves a cuppa, yea? Go cuddle on the couch and just do completely nothing. No crying, moping or wailing nonsense, got it? If you want to remember me at times, only remember the stuff that makes you smile._

_Live, Love, Laugh, guys. It’s what I’ve told you all along._

_Boobear._

 

And what else could we do than listen to him? Letter folded back in the envelope as we get cozy on the couch with cups filled with steaming tea. We talked the entire day, promising each other to take those written words by heart and to live by them. We promised to smile and to keep each other smiling, promised to keep moving forward. Promises meant a lot to us, pinky’s clasped and all. We knew no one would ever break them. Dyed locks of hair ruffled as he joked about the haunting threat. That really broke the tension and jokes flowed through the conversation, laughs replacing the silence.

I knew we would be alright, the letter was what we really needed. Our friend knew we would listen to him, he knew it would make us stronger. He’s always known what we needed and when, and he didn’t fail us this time.

We’d be alright.

Live, Love, Laugh

**Author's Note:**

> What was Louis sick with?
> 
> I deliberately stayed vague about it, but I've noticed lots of people actually do want to know.  
> This is what I had in mind while writing:
> 
> Louis has pulmonary fibrosis, it's a lung disease which isn't cureable. There are medicines and people can live with it up to the age of sixty, but they'd have to take loads of medicines, sometimes walk around with an oxygen tank or get a lungtransplantation. Louis didn't want that, whatever his reason might've been. Maybe he didn't want to feel so obstructed in his life, maybe he was just a little stubborn. When you don't take your medicines, the symptoms (gasping for air, coughing, weight loss etc.) get worse really quickly. Zayn's smoking sped up that process even more. That's why he knew he wouldn't have long, his lungs eventually would stop.


End file.
